The Branches of Denial
by thevinylfreak
Summary: Darcy catches Elizabeth in a... Strange... Situation. Elizabeth's denial is reviewed as well. Set during Elizabeth's visit to Pemberley. Reviews appreciated. Completed.


Denial can sometimes be the most painful of abstract feelings. One might say to themselves that they do not love a man when deep inside of their very being, they do. Maintaining this denial makes it all the more painful, for one must maintain their opinion and changing it can thus be difficult. Often, this denial can only be maintained to convince oneself that their feelings are true, while others around them see that they are in a state of denial. It is when these feelings of denial conflict with feelings of desire, and that is when those feelings dissolve into other abstract feelings, such as mental pain, heartbreak and regret. Elizabeth Bennett was in a state of denial very similar to that of the former. Her denial had existed since the early days of her acquaintance with the mysterious Mr. Darcy, and she was now far too deep into it to pull herself from the grasp of pain, heartbreak and regret.

Elizabeth, accompanied by her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, was having a short stay in Derbyshire when they came across the large and beautiful estate of Pemberley, owned by Mr. Darcy himself. Gorgeous as it was, the party could not resist a tour, having learned of Mr. Darcy's absence from the estate. Mr. Darcy's head servant, Mrs. Reynolds, was glad to show the party around the stately estate, as she wanted to show off the fine decoration that her master and former master, the late Mr. Darcy, had given it. They were showed to most of the public rooms and then they came to a gallery filled with beautiful white marble statues. Elizabeth marveled in their beauty, amazed by the delicate and realistic sculpting that was given to each piece of art. Everything, which had once started out as a plain, simple slab of marble, was an image of perfection - one that Elizabeth would never forget. Mrs. Reynolds called the party's attention to a statue in the likeness of Mr. Darcy himself, and the Gardiner's asked their niece if the likeness were very similar.

"Does the young lady know Mr. Darcy?" asked Mrs. Reynolds curiously.

"A little... We were acquainted during his stay in Hertfordshire," said Elizabeth, her eyes on that of the likeness of the man she thought she knew before her.

"Do you not think him a handsome man?" asked the servant, watching Elizabeth's admiration of the likeness of her master with hope. Elizabeth waited a moment, thinking back to every moment in time that she had met the mysterious Mr. Darcy. She thought back to when she first saw him at Netherfield, unable to take her eyes off of him, and then to his proposal in Kent. Her heart swelled when she thought back to how dreadfully handsome he looked in the rain, his dark hair sticking to his head, his eyes swimming with his declared love...

"Yes... Yes, he's very handsome..." Elizabeth muttered almost mechanically. How could she disagree? She knew the man to be arrogant and proud, yes, but only due to her own prejudice. The man she had come to know from the lips of Mrs. Reynolds was a completely different man than the one she met at Netherfield; he was very similar to the man that had proposed to her only a short time before. Not exactly, but very close. The real Mr. Darcy had been leaking through the shell he had built around himself to protect himself from young girls like Lydia and Kitty and from mothers like Mrs. Bennett.

Before she knew it, she found herself alone in the gallery with the likeness of Mr. Darcy before her. Glad to be alone, she looked at the bust, amazed at it's accuracy in his features. She noticed that every strand of his hair, even, was accurate, and the bust seemed to become Mr. Darcy himself. She didn't even feel herself standing on her toes, nor did she feel the coldness of the marble against her warm lips.

"Miss Elizabeth?" Elizabeth quickly turned around, knocking the bust from it's perch. She saw Mr. Darcy himself duck and catch the bust before it fell and shattered into many pieces. The bust saved and Mr. Darcy distracted, Elizabeth raced from the gallery, running as fast as her legs would take her from Pemberley and Mr. Darcy. She was absolutely humiliated; he had caught her kissing his likeness! He would no longer doubt that she loved him... She felt her heart throb when she thought about loving him, and she realized that she did, indeed, love the man that had called her 'barely tolerable' when they had first met. How could she have possibly fallen in love with a man as such? She ran until she found herself trapped by a balcony. Her eyes leaked rivers of tears as she finally came to terms with her love for the man she had thought she hated - her pain, which had branched from her denial.

Then she cried over the fact that she had heard Lady Catherine de Bourgh say that Mr. Darcy had been engaged to her daughter, Anne, since infancy; her heartbreak over the loss of the man she wanted for herself. And then, she felt stupid for not accepting him when he had proposed the first time. She knew that she had been attracted to him, but her pride would not have allowed her the ability to accept him; her regret, which hurt her the most of everything that had branched from her denial. As she cried, she heard footsteps approaching rapidly, and she turned as she felt a pair of arms wrap around her shaking body and a pair of warm lips crashing into hers. The kiss was like something she had never felt before; she felt her head spinning and she felt as if she were flying, almost. The feeling of that kiss caused her to erupt into more fits of tears, which also caused her to break the kiss. Her lover embraced her, gently stroking her hair with his fingers.

"I am certain that that kiss was much better than the one you shared with my likeness," Mr. Darcy whispered into her hair and she sobbed into his shoulder. He held her in a tight embrace, enjoying every second he had with his Elizabeth; he feared that everything that had just happened were a dream, and he never wanted that dream to end.

"I-I'm so sorry..." Elizabeth stuttered from his shoulder.

"You have nothing to apologize for, my dearest Elizabeth, for you have made me the happiest man alive. I have no doubts that you will accept my hand in marriage now." Elizabeth said nothing, but continued sobbing into his shoulder. "I must ride to Hertfordshire as soon as possible to ask for your father's blessing... You can do without me for a short while, I assume?" Elizabeth still muttered no response, but her tears slowly halted as Mr. Darcy held her in his arms. He pressed his lips to her brow, pulling out of the embrace to look at her. "My dearest, allow me to escort you back to town." He handed her his handkerchief and offered his arm, both of which she took. She dabbed at her eyes as Mr. Darcy led her back through the estate and walked in silence as he escorted her to town on his arm.

...

Mr. Darcy had already asked and gained Mr. Bennett's consent by the time Elizabeth had arrived at Longbourn, and he was expected for dinner that very evening. Elizabeth feigned a headache, but still was forced to come down for dinner. She was seated beside Mr. Darcy, but ate in silence. She could not get over her embarrassment of being caught kissing the likeness of the man by the man himself. "My dearest," Mr. Darcy whispered, leaning over, "you must not be ashamed in your actions. They have not upset me in the slightest, but have done quite the opposite."

"I cannot help my shame, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth whispered back to him.

"Walk with me after dinner, my dearest," he responded, and not another word passed them during dinner. After dinner, after sitting in the parlor for a short while, Mr. Darcy requested permission to take Elizabeth for a walk. Mary offered to go as a chaperone, but only went as far as the end of the property to allow Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth some privacy. "Elizabeth, I beg you not to leave me in such silence. My love extends to accept an action as such as a compliment."

"A compliment? Dare I ask how?" asked Elizabeth, her cheeks flushing.

"You were thinking about me, and in a way that made you wish to kiss me," said Mr. Darcy, looking at her with a slight smile.

"I wish I hadn't..."

"Oh, but why? It made me happy to see that you were interested in me after all, and you seemed to enjoy the kiss I bestowed upon your lips on my balcony."

"If you recall, I was in tears."

"You shared that kiss with me just as passionately. That kiss was not one-way." Elizabeth was silent as they stopped, and Mr. Darcy faced her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "If I were to kiss you again, it still would not be one-way."

"How improper of you to bestow kisses upon me without my permission, Mr. Darcy."

"Fitzwilliam, if you will. It is my Christian name and you are soon to be my wife. Now, might I bestow yet another kiss upon your lips?"

"Seeing as nothing worthy compels me to say no, then yes." He pressed his lips to hers once again, and the fiery sensation of passion erupted within her again. Just as she were about to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, then continued to walk. "How very cruel of you!"

"What have I done?"

"To kiss me as passionately as so and to break it so soon!"

"My dear, you have only proved my point."

"Please do not call me 'my dear'. Call me something else, like 'Lizzie' or 'my love' or 'my darling'."

"Mrs. Darcy?"

"I am not Mrs. Darcy yet, Mr. Dar- I mean, Fitzwilliam..." She blushed slightly as he flashed a handsome smile her way and turned her gaze to the ground. She felt him stop once again and put a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Have your eyes always been so blue..."

"Yes, my lovely Elizabeth, now I beg you to kiss me again, and say the very words I wish you to breathe to me."

"What words are they, my Fitzwilliam?" He pressed his lips to hers and broke it just as quickly as she whined in protest.

"Say them to me and I'll give you a better kiss."

"I love you." He kissed her again, this time much longer and far more passionately. That kiss, and many other moments of passionate kissing afterwards, seemed to carry them to their wedding day, which was shared with her sister, Jane, and Mr. Bingley. "When did Jane and Mr. Bingley become engaged?" Elizabeth asked her new husband with a giggle as they were sitting in the closed carriage.

"Sometime when we were sharing a passionate kiss, my love," he told her, then he kissed her again until the two of them were content.


End file.
